|
|
David McCullough breathes new life into one of America’s foremost patriots with this excellent biography. It does everything a biography should do – it covers every detail of Adams’ life, his family, his interactions, and his immense influence on early American government, and more importantly, it makes him feel like a real, fully fleshed out person. He and his wife Abigail jump out from the page in numerous excerpts from their letters to each other, with the situations elaborated upon by McCullough in strong, clear writing, which is never boring as he manages to make tedious issues of government understandable and even interesting.
What struck me is how little about Adams I had learned previously. The great patriots seem to always be Washington and Jefferson. Both are included in this biography, especially Jefferson, but are shaded in a different light. We objectively know that no one is perfect, but somehow the founding fathers escape our scrutiny. McCullough does not spare them, but neither does he spare Adams – he is merely showing us the men as they were. This makes them feel far truer than any high school history class that simply extols their virtues has ever done. Adams’ contributions to American independence are given full weight and consideration here and it is hard to understand just why we don’t admire him the same way we admire the other patriots. Perhaps because he was a stubborn man whose enemies attacked him to an extent no longer allowed in American politics? Perhaps because he occasionally lost his temper and made some attacks of his own? I don’t know, but I certainly admire him all the more after this refreshing biography. It’s clear he was a brilliant man, and McCullough displays this equally alongside his faults.
Would I recommend this biography? Yes! I think it’s essential reading for every American. Especially now, when we are embroiled in a frustrating war, it’s important for us to realize that it was not always this way and that men did fight for peace when it counted, like Adams did even though it lost him the presidency. This man should be given more credit than he is now – McCullough has convinced me. He should be up there with Jefferson and Washington for his contributions. This is a brilliant work of history and it most certainly deserves that Pulitzer.
Robert Lacey fills us in on the snippets of English history from the late 14th century up to the early 18th. Only the amusing and entertaining and informative bits of history, which makes this a very pleasant and quick read. I can’t comment much on accuracy because a lot of the book goes beyond my time period (although he does give too much credit to Thomas More in his section on Richard III – why do people persist in doing this?), but I enjoyed it, particularly the bits I didn’t know. This is a book for people who only want a glance at the best tales, not an indepth history. It’s a great starting point, but that’s about it.
I’m still looking for volume 1, though, which covers my favorite period in English history!
Elizabeth I is fascinating. She reigned for nearly fifty years without ever marrying or declaring a successor; she brought England onto the broader world stage for the first time in centuries. This book details her life from her succession to her death, with a focus on much of her government. Both positive and negative aspects of her reign are discussed, but mostly the book just serves as a chronicle of her life and times.
This was a good biography. It took me a while to read because it involves a lot of information. Weir does a lot less persuading than in some of her earlier biographies, probably because she was given much more to work with in the Elizabethan era. Usually a myth is easily dispelled with factual evidence and no persuasion is needed. In this case, that works very well, but it doesn’t challenge any ideas or propose new viewpoints. Generally I prefer when a historian does some guesswork, or at least extrapolates from the evidence, but for the most part Weir just reports from the sources. It works for a biography, but doesn’t add much to historical understanding, just popular understanding.
Andrew Bridgeford takes a deep look at the Bayeux Tapestry, its history, and potential interpretations of its content. He is extremely thorough in his assessment, laying it out in a logical sequence that makes his arguments very persuasive. It’s fairly obvious that he is a lawyer, since he spares no time for fanciful ideas and sticks to interpretations straight from the facts.
The part that I liked most about this was Bridgeford’s extensive use of primary sources. He pulls in plenty of Anglo-Saxon, Norman, and French chronicles, as well as various records and writing of other types. He does occasionally use the work of other historians, but I was very impressed with the depth of his research into the original chronicles. He links the tapestry with various contemporary accounts in an attempt to separate out the true thread of events as well as who may have created or paid for the tapestry and why. He takes an indepth look at various misunderstood aspects of the tapestry and postulates why they are they and what they could possibly mean. He even makes a suggestion as to the author of the Song of Roland.
Bridgeford’s strict use of facts and logic assists the reader in understanding his ideas and are a great support to him. His suggestions never seem implausible, even if they occasionally diverge from orthodox opinion. His footnotes and bibliography are extensive. Definitely a recommended book for anyone interested in 11th century medieval history.
This biography is probably among the worst that I have read. It reads like a novel, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but in this case, it fails to provide a convincing portrait of Josephine.
Carolly Erickson covers Josephine’s life from the great storm of her childhood in Martinique to her death. At times, her portrayal of Josephine as sweet, generous, grateful, and natural is at odds with the calculating promiscuous woman she also attempts to show. She doesn’t debate either view, but instead attempts to combine them and it comes out a bit strange. The book reads like a tabloid at times, not using Josephine’s own words but those of her observers. Josephine’s letters are occasionally used, but not often enough, especially when Erickson boldly states what Josephine was thinking or how she felt. As ostensibly history, I feel that a biography should state where these impressions are coming from, or if they’re the biographer’s imagining, since they are not fact. The sources are largely in French, which does make sense, but prevents me from researching further in order to discover the truth.
I found I didn’t like Erickson’s Josephine; despite protestations of strength she comes across as weak-willed, jealous, and whiny. That may well be how she was, but overall I didn’t like her much. I preferred Sandra Gulland’s Josephine, since while her trilogy is historical fiction, it uses more source material and provides a view of a Josephine harassed in every way but still true to herself, jealous but attempting to deal with her husband’s infidelity. That isn’t necessarily the truth either, but I preferred it. Also of note is the fact that Gulland maintains that Josephine never had the numerous affairs that Erickson ascribes to her. The evidence for these affairs is in fact scanty, and until more is found we’ll probably never know whether or not Josephine was loyal to Napoleon.
In addition, this book is only 350 pages long and doesn’t delve into any of the issues of the time, merely grazes over them in an attempt for a summary.
I think I will seek out a more scholarly account of Josephine since I don’t trust this one. I prefer a biography to be written more as a history, dealing with conflicting viewpoints and attempting to discern the truth, rather than a popular account that reads like a novel and challenges nothing. Very disappointing.
Paul Murray Kendall, the author of this biography of Richard III, one of the most controversial English kings, carefully and painstakingly constructs Richard’s life and times through contemporary fifteenth-century sources, resolutely attempting to thrust away the “Tudor tradition” once and for all.
Necessarily, it takes a long while to get through a volume so heavy with facts and references, especially considering Kendall backs up nearly all of his points with lengthy endnotes. These are welcome and flesh out every aspect of Kendall’s thought processes as he attempts to show us the man who has been so maligned. What emerges is a picture of an honest, well-intentioned man, perhaps too eager to seize a throne, let down by nearly all of his contemporaries. As Duke of Gloucester, Richard won the allegiance of the North, a task which no one had yet managed since William the Conqueror, if not before. He stood by his brother and his brother’s children, for the most part. As King, Richard forgave many of his enemies, bestowed annuities on helpless people, and passed laws entirely for the betterment of society. He did not ask Parliament for a tax despite facing two rebellions, and in general focused largely on increasing the well-being of the poor. He even compares Richard to Henry VII, and Henry comes out the worse for it.
The matter of the Princes in the Tower also comes into play, as do Richard’s motives for dethroning his nephew Edward V. In each case, Kendall addresses the matter logically and with plenty of evidence from the sources he has consulted. Richard comes out of all this possibly guilty, but understandably so, especially in the latter case. Kendall doesn’t believe that Richard killed the princes, and neither do I, though my opinion has been formed for some time now.
Kendall’s writing is at times overly flowery and it’s fairly obvious that this book is over fifty years old. That doesn’t negate its virtues, but it does make for occasionally slow reading, especially compared to current popular biographies. This is very easy to read compared to the original sources, of course. One must also keep in mind that other evidence has been discovered in the years since Kendall’s biography; nevertheless this one remains a cornerstone in the case for Richard III and should be read as such.
I particularly enjoyed the excerpts from Richard’s letters displaying characteristics of his that Kendall wanted to show. I’ve read several medieval biographies at this point and the glimpse into the subjects’ minds is fascinating. Richard’s mind is no less, and it is in these letters that we can feel closest to the king who was betrayed by so many people and even by his own generous policies.
With this biography, Kendall tries, and succeeds, at building a picture of Richard III that is not marred by Tudor legend, a picture of a man and not a monster. He goes through each source and attempts to extract what is true and what is false. I can’t say if he has the whole truth, because I don’t think anyone ever will, but he does a remarkably convincing job.
|
|
Recent Comments